In The Arms Of
by Digi12
Summary: ItalyxGermany - Italy wakes up after a night with Germany to find the blonde man gone. Lost in his thoughts, eh wonders about the other nation....and of someone he lost long ago.


He didn't expect to wake up alone. Not that he expected the blonde to act like a baroque-novel lover, cuddling him, stroking his hair, whispering sweet nothings; oh no, he knew that wouldn't happen.

But at the same time, he at least thought Germany would have stayed after _what they'd done_ the previous night.

Italy sat up, looking around the room like a lost child. No sounds from the attached bathroom, the door into the hall wide open, no note on the bedside table...

He couldn't have gone far, he had to be somewhere close. This WAS Germany's house after all.

Italy swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood up, and searched for his clothes. It was time to hunt for Germany.

_His lips weren't soft. One would think they were, but they weren't. His lips were hard, the kiss was hard. It wasn't unpleasant. If anything, Italy enjoyed the roughness. It wouldn't feel like Germany otherwise._

_Italys' heart felt light when the thought ran through his head. It was Germany kissing him right now. It was Germany who was..._

_The kiss broke._

_"What's wrong?" He looked up, confused at the tone of Germany's voice. _

_"Why would something be wrong?"_

_"You aren't...you..."_

_The blonde flushed red. He wasn't used to this?_

_"Nothing." He kept his own voice quiet. "Nothing's wrong." Nothing was wrong. Nothing about this could ever be wrong. Not with how good and right it felt._

_Except for...Maybe..._

_Italy kissed him this time, and Germany seemed to relax a little more._

He wasn't in the living room. Italy didn't think he would be, but still.

There was nothing much to check in terms of the living room. Even he knew that, in all his absent-minded ways.  
He bit his lip. Where would he be? Germany, as far as he knew, didn't...do that, often. And this was the first time Italy had even been involved if (_God forbid_) he had done this before. He didn't know Germany's.....post....sexual...habits.

But there was still more of the house to check. Italy left the living room, sights set on his next destination.

_"I want you to wear this helmet from now on! I worry about you. So wear that helmet from now on."_

_He'd started to cry, and threw it aside. Germany, he remembered, had forced it onto his head, and asked what was wrong with it._

_"I'm sorry! But...I feel like I'll get shorter if I wear it!"  
__**And if I get shorter**_

_**It would be more intimidating**_

_**To look you in the eye.**_

_"No. You won't get shorter."_

_**And the more you'd intimidate me,**_

_**The more I'd feel like**_

_**I couldn't hide**_

_**What I felt**_

_**Anymore**_

_Italy had whined. Well, it was more of a whine and a moan. He tried to fight it, he did. But he just couldn't._

_He bit down on Germany's neck earning a gasp for himself. His teeth let go of the skin and he tried to kiss it, sooth the bruising spot._

_"What? What is it?" He asked, his hands were still in his hair, his hands were still close to..._

_"M-M-My..." Was all he could manage. He heard Germany make a sound, confused._

_OH!_

_"This?" he asked, blue eyes on Italy. His fingers slid down the single curled strand, obnoxiously bigger than the rest. _

_Italy whined again._

_"D-Don't! You're..."_

_"What?" Germany was enjoying this! His fingers slowed down. This wasn't good. It __**felt so good**__, but it __**wasn't**_ _good. If this kept up, the smaller one would...he'd..._

_"You're making it worse..." It felt too good. He tried to distract himself from the delicious twists in his lower gut. He kissed the shell of the tallers ear, his own hands gripping Germany's shoulders._

_In the back of his mind, though, he couldn't help but think. __**The other one**_ _wouldn't leave him be._

_The brunet __**had**_ _always wondered about that._

_"Good." Italy tensed up. What? "If this is what happens, I want to make it worse."_

_"Germanyyy..."_

_"Feels good?" He nodded. There was nothing else, he didn't know if he wanted more or if he wanted it to stop. "I want to make it better."_

_Something hard pressed into Italy's upper hip._

_"G-Germany,"  
"Hm?" he was still playing with the curled strand. He couldn't take much more of this.  
"I want more." He breathed. He felt his heart start to pick up, and he couldn't control his body's reactions. His own hands found Germany's shirt front, toying with the myriad of pins and buttons._

_"More what?"  
"You."_

Italy looked out into the courtyard.

No signs of Germany there either. That's when it really felt odd. Germany usually liked being out there, whether it was for training or just the scenery.

Japan wasn't here today. A decision in Italy's favor for the most part (Considering what had happened), but all the same, he would probably know first and foremost where Germany was, if he was here.

Italy suddenly felt very self-conscious. He couldn't have done something wrong, could he?

_Germany was smiling. Italy liked when he smiled. Italy LOVED when he smiled. He looked so....so...something. Italy didn't have the ability to think right now, not with Germany..._

_His back arched, naked body entangled in lewd motions against that of his ally, who had the benefit of his boxers remaining._

_He chuckled, a deep rich sound. His thumbs continued to push and roll the nations' pert nubs, the current cause of Italy's sexual torment._

_"You're cute like this." 'Cute'? Did Germany just call him 'cute'? No, did Germany just USE the word 'cute'?_

_Italy responded with his own hands, one tracing the abdomen of the dominating nation, the other on Germany's back. He heard him gasp, and his hands were quaking. Italy could only assume he enjoyed it._

_One hand left as nipple, the other continued to toy with the poor little thing. The other hand strolled down his own torso, pleasure, utter pleasure, and moving down to-_

_"No." He pushed out the word. Germany stopped everything._

_"No fair." His own hand moved downwards, from his spine to his rear, gripping Germany's underthings. "You still have..."_

_Germany paused, the hand moving to the same item._

_"T-Take it off." He felt his face heat up as he said it. The pleasure in his gut flared._

_Germany smiled again._

_"You do it."_

_A thrill went up his spine._

_"Really?" The stronger nodded._

_His hands were shaking. He gripped the band on both sides of Germany's hips, pulling them down off of his toned, peach body. Italy had managed to get them down to his knees (which was as far as one could go with Germany kneeling over him), his eyes settled on..._

_He let out his breath, an audible shudder. Germany leaned himself down, forehead to forehead, an unmistakable smile on his face, however small._

_"Italy."_

Or maybe....Germany knew that...

Italy had always wondered.

There was certainly a chance. When _he_ was around, all those centuries ago, Italy had TECHNICALLY been conquered by...at the time, though, there didn't seem.....could it even have come to pass that...

Germany...

Was....

_"...At your house, what do you do with people you like?"  
"You kiss them, I guess."_

_"I-I see."_

_**I do miss him. I miss him every day. I kept telling him, Grandpa Rome was too strong....**_

_"I've always loved you since the 900's."_

_"R-Really?"  
"Really. I'm not lying."_

_**I wonder if he listened to me...**_

_"I'm so happy!"_

_Good! Too good!_

_"H-Holy-!" He couldn't fight the word. He'd almost said the whole thing, but it had just been the one word._

_Germany rubbing himself against Italy, the bliss, the good..._

_More. He wanted more. He wanted Germany._

_"Huh?" A lazy grunt, laced with pleasure. So even he wasn't strong enough to fight all of this._

_Good. Italy liked him this way. He seemed happy._

_Italy liked when he was happy.  
"Germanyyy..." Excitement fogged his mind. "I want Germany....Germany..." It sounded young, a childish whine for an adult need. The Aryan blonde licked his lip._

_"I-I see..."  
Holy..._

_Germany doing....Germany and him. Just the thought of it sent his mind reeling. The blue-eyed man had said something, he didn't quite catch what, but he saw his partners' hand scuttling around a drawer for something._

_"Again."_

_Huh?_

_Blue eyes locked with brown, Italy's breath locked in his lungs._

_"Say it again."_

_"Say what?"_

_Nervous?_

_"Say you..."_

_Deep blue, a blue he loved. These eyes could have belonged to __**him**__...but they were Germany's eyes.  
"I...Want Germany."_

_He made a sound. Germany looked...__**ah**__. Germany looked how Italy felt._

_"Again?"_

_"I want...G-Germany..." Just saying it made everything more intense. His body shivered, his muscles tightened._

_"__**Italy**__."  
"I want-" He kissed him again. The breath he'd had inside was stale and forced itself to the top. Italy felt almost high with everything he was feeling._

_It was Germany who did this. Germany. Only he could make him feel this way._

_Germany._

_Not the Holy Roman Empire._

_He gasped when something cold and wet, a finger coated in something, entered his body._

But it was all Germany. It couldn't have been anyone BUT Germany. Yes, Italy promised to wait for him, but....there was only so long he could wait.

He felt guilty.

Speaking of guilty, he re-checked the bedroom. No Germany.

.......Why?

His legs felt weak. He leaned against the doorpost for support.

What? What had he done wrong? He wouldn't do it again, if it...

Or...was the whole thing wrong?

Italy froze.

Did Germany hate the entire thing....Did Germany hate....

No...

Please no...

"Germany..." His body slid to the floor. "I...I didn't mean to...I-If you'd said no, I wouldn't have kissed you....if you'd said no, I wouldn't have asked for you..."

But he was so SURE.....

"I...I didn't mean to be thinking of someone else....I wasn't trying to think of him."  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_"Say it..." Germany gasped, buried inside of the smaller nation. Italy's mind was in a thousand places at once. Eyes slid closed, head leaned back, it was perfect._

_"Ger." He felt hoarse. "G-Germa...n...yy!"_

_"Say it..." he licked his dry lips. "Say it...Italy..."_

_"H-Hol..." The rest of it died at the constant pull of his body. In, out, in out. He felt so empty, so __**full**__, __empty, __**complete**__..._  
_"No." Sharp, decisive. An order. Italy's body halfway locked-up. "Say..."_

He leaned his head against the wood of the doorway.

No, even after that...once the name had been said, he knew how wrong he was...

"....You're not the Holy Roman Empire." He sighed. "I know. You're Germany. Even if you were Holy Roman Empire, you're Germany now and that's what matters because you're not him and I can't ask you to be him, especially when I like how you are NOW..."

He wasn't _him_...

He couldn't be _him_.

He couldn't be. He was-

"Italy?"

His head snapped up.

"What are you doing?"

_Whatever he'd said next - too pleasured to focus, to pleasured to hear, see, think, he could only FEEL, and what a __**joy**_ _THAT was - was apparently right, as Germany sped up. Italy arched, his voice cracking with fevered gasps. _

_His fingers, tangled in Germany's now messed blonde locks, tightened as he found release, toes curled into the sheets. His jaw dropped, stuck in a soundless vowel as Germany came, the remnants of his desire warming Italy inside. The blonde's face was buried into Italy's neck, he'd just noticed that. He'd wake up feeling odd, he didn't care._

_All he cared about now was-_

"Germany?"

And sure enough, there he was, looking at Italy with blue eyes, with more clarity than he'd had later last night, blonde hair once in disarray slicked back once again like a good little Aryan boy....

"What's wrong?" He asked. "Italy, your face is red."

Germany.

Germany!

"I..." He tried, wiping away the wet trails. "I thought you...l-left..."

"...Oh! Oh...I...." The blonde man shuffled embarrassedly. "I...I woke up to...to uh...we-_I_..I was out of...um..."

Italy noticed the plastic bag in Germany's gloved hand.

"I...I thought you'd wake up later...I left to...g-get..." he shifted his weight. "The...um....th-the sausages you...you like..."

The brunet looked from the bag to Germany.

He couldn't help but smile.

_"Say it..." he licked his dry lips. "Say it...Italy..."_

_"H-Hol..." The rest of it died at the constant pull of his body. In, out, in out. He felt so empty, so __**full**__, empty, __**complete**__..._  
_"No." Sharp, decisive. An order. Italy's body halfway locked-up. "Say..."_

_Italy bucked his hips up. Germany was good. He was so close, close..._

_"Germany," he whined, voice scarcely a whisper. _

_Holy Roman Empire be damned. _

_"I love Germany..."_

"Hey," Germany looked over his shoulder at Italy, the brunet at the kitchen table. "You know that wasn't just...the first for _you_, right?" He asked. Italy watched him, half of him dwelling on how odd it was to see Germany cooking. He knew he DID, but it was rarely seen with his own eyes.

Italy nodded.

"I know."

"I hadn't...done it before either."  
"I know."

Silence.

"Are you...okay with this?" Germany was uncomfortable again. "You're not...just going with it? You meant what you..."

"Are...we still friends?" Italy asked.

"Is that all we are?"

Germany...

....

Italy stood up from his place, walked over to the man in front of the stove, and wrapped his arms around him.

"Italy..."

His heart was pounding. This feeling in him....It wasn't like with _the other one_. Germany was strong. Germany always came to help him. Germany was also his friend, and a lot more than that at the same time. Yes, _his_ feelings were secret and had been until they parted....

Italy would not repeat that mistake.

"I meant it...when I said I loved you." He murmured, pressing his face into Germany's back.

The blonde was still.

"...Italy..."

His heart skipped.

"I love you."

Italy couldn't fight the smile.

"R-Really?"  
"Really." Germany turned in the embrace, his front now to the smaller nation. "I'm not lying."

Familiar words.

But it was Germany. There wasn't room for anyone else anymore. Of course he'd always be there, but now he had Germany.

His lips weren't soft. His lips were hard, the kiss was hard. But Italy liked it that way.

It wouldn't feel like Germany otherwise.

Yaaayyy, first Hetalia fic! I'm such a sucker for ItalyxGermany.

AND USUK.

DO NOT DENY THE USUK.

Me no own. And thanks to Nebu for beta-ing.


End file.
